


A distinct lack of rose petals

by Anonymous



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aggression, Anal Sex, Bards, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Compulsion, Demons, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Folklore, Geralt POV, Humor, Jokes, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polish Mythology, Rants, Scents & Smells, Shameless Smut, Smut, Swearing, Talking, Top Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 16:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22159054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jaskier should know better than to talk to strange creatures in the forest.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 27
Kudos: 935
Collections: Anonymous





	A distinct lack of rose petals

‘What are you doing, Jaskier?’

Jaskier turned. ‘Nothing!’

Every aspect of him, his face, his shoulders, even his _toes_ exuded guilt.

Geralt scanned the clearing. There were some willow trees next to a slow-moving stream. Shrubs. Grass. Nothing untoward. But he’d been so sure…

‘I heard you talking.’

‘Well, maybe, I was having a very nice, very civil discussion with the only engaging conversational partner in this part of the forest, that is, _myself_ ,’ said Jaskier, panic speeding his words. ‘You could stand to learn some new conversational techniques; glaring isn’t particularly conducive to social bonding you know-’

‘What have you found this time?’ Geralt sighed and put his hand on his sword. ‘You attract trouble. Just tell me.’

‘Hurtful. Callous. Disgustingly in-character.’

Before Geralt could consider all the implications of that statement, Jaskier had patted himself down self-consciously and hurried back to Geralt’s side.

‘It’s nothing, okay? I was bored.’

Geralt studied Jaskier closely. Eyes nervous but not hypnotized. He didn’t smell any poisons or unusual herbs. In fact, Jaskier’s hair smelled like…

He sniffed and wiped his nose.

Geralt was still trying to work out just _what_ he smelled when Jaskier patted him hurriedly on the arm. More scent wafted from his clothes. Geralt’s thoughts went blank. Heat ran through him. He shuddered violently.

‘Let’s get to town,’ Jaskier said. He still looked nervous, but Geralt convinced himself that whatever it was, it could wait.

‘Fine,’ said Geralt, swallowing. He didn’t trust himself make eye contact.

*

They found a reasonably-priced inn. There wasn’t a bard to be seen and Geralt expected Jaskier to take advantage of the situation, charm his way into work and earn some coin.

Jaskier shut himself in his room. That, more than anything else, told Geralt that something was very wrong.

*

‘Let me in,’ Geralt snapped, hammering on the door of Jaskier’s room. Others passed him warily and kept their distance.

There was no answer.

‘If you don’t open the door in the next minute,’ said Geralt, raising his voice, ‘-I’ll break it down and take the damages out of your coin.’

He heard Jaskier curse and shuffle towards the door. (Shuffle? The man wasn’t injured or decrepit…)

The door opened. Jaskier looked pitiful. Flushed and sweaty and...

He smelled like sex.

Geralt pushed him aside and closed the door. ‘Have you been _masturbating_?’

Jaskier clawed at Geralt’s sleeve and breathed out shakily. ‘It’s…it’s nothing.’

Geralt lasted all of one second and then grabbed Jaskier’s hips and kissed him. Kissed Jaskier’s collarbones, his neck, sucked the moisture from his mouth.

‘What have you done this time?’

Geralt meant to ask firmly and professionally. Instead, his words forced their way into Jaskier’s mouth in an animal growl.

He couldn’t keep his hands off Jaskier. He groped him crudely like he was at a whorehouse. And Jaskier responded. Those tight, _stupid_ pants of his hid nothing. Despite whatever he’d been doing before Geralt came in, Jaskier’s body wanted more. It wanted Geralt.

‘Not my fault,’ moaned Jaskier, clumsily pushing at Geralt and gasping for breath. The bard groaned when Geralt palmed his crotch, teasing him until Jaskier was rock hard.

‘I thought I was so _careful_ ,’ he said, then whimpered when Geralt grabbed him by both shoulders.

Waves of lust hit Geralt, washing through his veins like a potion. He could just rub his cock against Jaskier’s crotch and it would feel so good, so unyielding and _beastlike_...

He pushed Jaskier away, breathing hard.

‘I can’t keep my hands off you, Jaskier, what have you _done_?’

Jaskier was flushed and shaken. He sat on his bed and grabbed the sheets as if they could anchor him to…something that wasn’t Geralt.

‘I met someone in the woods.’

Geralt had already suspected that. He’d been suspicious the minute Jaskier had stammered excuses and stopped smelling like a person. Right now, Jaskier smelled more like a hot three-course meal and lilac and gooseberries _and_ the wilds _and_ an entire scheming sorceress coven’s worth of aphrodisiacs and Geralt couldn’t think about anything except tearing off Jaskier’s clothes. Right _now_.

‘A man in a tree. He’d heard my song about you and, um, he was interested…he requested more.’

Geralt growled and Jaskier looked even guiltier.

‘I laughed it off, oh _come on_ it’s not like you give me much material to work with, and then he said he could get you to _open up_ , what sort of songs would I sing if he gave me the chance to get to know you and I thought it was a joke and – Geralt, he looked human, I’m so sorry-’

A man in a tree. Possibly a willow tree. Oh no…

‘Did he only ask for songs? He didn’t ask for more?’

Jaskier looked stunned. ‘You believe me?’

‘Did you forget what I am?’ snarled Geralt, ‘-you, of all people! Answer me, damn you. He didn’t ask for souls, did he? Not yours or anyone else’s?’

‘N-no. Just songs.’

Rokita, or something like him. A trickster demon with a poor sense of humor.

Geralt sighed heavily and wiped his forehead. ‘Tell me what happened to you after that.’

‘He said…I shouldn’t be afraid to be _bold_. And then you started _yelling_ and I turned and then he was _gone_ and this is _your_ fault Geralt…oh but you do look…’

Jaskier trailed off and stared at Geralt hungrily.

Geralt shook his head and started removing his clothes. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

He kicked his pants to the floor. His cock was maddeningly hard. He wedged a chair under the door handle while he still had the presence of mind to do so.

Jaskier’s mouth opened. ‘But-’

‘You made a deal with a demon, you idiot. You’re going to fuck me and maybe feel compelled to sing some ridiculous songs about it afterwards. But you do that in _here_ , not out there. Take off your clothes.’

‘Geralt…I…’

Geralt raised his eyebrows. ‘What? You don’t want to fuck me?’

‘No, it’s not that…’ Jaskier’s eyes dropped. ‘Lovemaking is…it’s special. I don’t want to do it just… _because_.’

‘By the fruits of fucking Melitele,’ barked Geralt, ‘-you think I’d be threatening to break down your door or offering you my ass if I hadn’t thought about it? No, I would lock myself in _my_ room and leave you to suffer like the fool that you are! You were lucky, _phenomenally_ lucky that he didn’t ask you for more than a couple of bawdy songs – so take your _fucking_ clothes off and _fuck me_ right _fucking now_ , and if you don’t like my lack of rose petals and candlelit serenading, learn _not to talk to strange creatures in the forest! This isn’t even the first time!_ ’

‘All right, you needn’t be so… _accurate_ ,’ mumbled Jaskier, going a dull red.

He took off his clothes as Geralt climbed into bed and lubed himself up (weapons grease, why did he never learn to bring more on these trips) and crawled over Geralt with a wondering look in his eyes.

‘Do you have a preference, or…’

‘In the ass. Now.’

‘There’s not a single romantic bone in your body,’ muttered Jaskier. ‘Not even the obvious one. Well. On your stomach, then.’

His teeth grazed the back of Geralt’s neck gently. Geralt closed his eyes and he could feel Jaskier breathing, feel the other man’s mouth move along his skin before settling on one spot, that grew wet and electric from Jaskier’s tongue.

That bard was insufferably good at this, damn him.

Geralt’s body began moving on its own and he ground against Jaskier hungrily. His flesh tingled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this blind with lust.

‘Truth be told, I thought you’d hate me,’ Jaskier mumbled.

He stroked Geralt and cupped his balls, fondling them gently, and Geralt nearly lost his mind thinking about what else Jaskier could do to him. His cock was twitching eagerly, and his legs splayed wide.

Geralt pushed himself back onto Jaskier with a small gasp. ‘Don’t be stupid.’

His hole stretched and his own cock trembled as he felt himself swallow Jaskier inch by inch, greedy for the sensation of feeling full, feeling vulnerable, feeling... _close_.

Geralt began clenching his muscles gently, sucking Jaskier’s erection into himself with small, regular motions that he had _definitely_ not practiced with any sort of phallus-shaped object. This was just unpredictable enough to be better – Geralt bucked against the other man, huffing a little as he mistimed his thrusts against Jaskier and they connected roughly.

Somehow it felt just right, and Geralt rocked against the other man in a haze of pleasure, savoring Jaskier’s cock and losing himself in tight, encompassing sensations until he couldn’t feel, couldn’t _think_ anything else.

Jaskier responded, pulling out slightly and then thrusting deep into him. There was a long pause, as if he was waiting for feedback... Geralt’s mouth opened, and he couldn’t help the wordless sounds that escaped his mouth. Helpless, hungry sounds. He wanted to be fucked hard, like an animal, even though he’d never thought to ask this of anyone.

Jaskier sped up, as if he’d somehow glimpsed Geralt’s thoughts. Every thrust made it worse, made it better, made Geralt want more. He groaned and arched his back and tightened, whimpering, wanting it to be harder, _harder_ , precum leaking from his cock like a tap that couldn’t be turned off. He could feel the sticky liquid cool as it slid down the underside of his erection and rested just under the head. He tried to shake it but it clung there stubbornly, as he shoved himself against Jaskier. His insides burned with the need for more.

‘Ah, _fuck_ -’

Their balls slapped together crudely. Jaskier was getting more caught up in the rhythm now, Geralt could feel him suck in a breath sharply, his fingers beginning to bite into Geralt’s sides painfully. They’d both have bruises tomorrow.

‘Faster,’ Geralt panted, as Jaskier’s cock slid in and out of him. The noise was wet, distinct. It felt good.

‘Oh Geralt. I’m not going to just _use_ you – whatever you might say. It’s still special.’

Jaskier’s fingers found their way around Geralt’s cock, working him with light, gentle motions and Geralt lost it, gasping and clawing at the sheets, incoherently snarling and shuddering at every movement, the press of Jaskier’s lips against his shoulder.

Geralt arched his hips, his entire body surging with heat before he came over Jaskier’s hand. His body shuddered and clenched repeatedly, completely beyond his control. He moaned raggedly, not caring how uncontrolled he sounded.

Jaskier’s pace faltered and the bard swore, shuddering and spilling into Geralt.

Geralt groaned softly as he was filled. It felt good to have close, physical contact with someone who wasn’t intent on killing him. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d had that.

Eventually, Jaskier slid off and his breathing slowed. Geralt rolled over, intending to tell him off.

They stared at each other with dazed expressions.

Jaskier shuffled over and kissed Geralt’s forehead. ‘Not my fault.’

‘This is _entirely_ your fault,’ said Geralt heavily.

Jaskier bit his lip. ‘I don’t feel like singing. What does that mean?’

Geralt wiped his face on the sheet. ‘I don’t know, fuck me again and see what happens.’

‘ _Geralt_ , you said you didn’t hate me, do you intend to kill me by draining me dry-’

‘This is your fault, Jaskier, so take responsibility,’ said Geralt, a smile playing about his mouth. ‘I’ll give you something to sing about.’

**Author's Note:**

> i am ashamed.


End file.
